Planned Obsolescence
by Bazore
Summary: After collecting precious cargo for a job, River discovers a stowaway on board Serenity.


A/N: Firefly and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

See note at the end.

--

"I have been waiting a very long time for this moment." His voice was breathless and hollow. The young girl stood not a foot away from him and stared into his eyes. She noticed, with a slight twinge of fear, that his pupils dilated and contracted as if he were trying to focus completely on her and not just reacting to the light. His eyes were ashen and dull, but would flash with a glint of red every now and then. At least, that's what she thought she saw. She couldn't be sure. He smiled, baring his perfect white teeth, but there was no humor or joy in it. It was the smile of a hunter who knows that the game is just about to end.

"You're trying to read my mind, aren't you? Fascinating. I think you'll find reading me a trifle difficult."

And it was true. She could pick up nothing from his mind. Nothing spoke to her, not even the most base of impulses. All that would fill her head was a whirring sound.

She looked at him again. And then, in the instant, she knew him. Her eyes widened and she yelled to her friends behind her.

"He's a --"

The man's own eyes flickered red and he backhanded the young girl.

Before she fell, a gunshot rang out through the hold. Captain Malcolm Reynolds, from the catwalk above the hold, fired at the intruder.

"_Dung ee-miao…_is that Vera? Did you take Vera out of my room?" Jayne was down in the hold, hidden behind some cargo, ready to fire whenever River got out of the way.

Vera was his baby-girl.

Simon had rushed from the hallway when he heard the gunshot and went immediately to his sister who was trying to speak, but was still dazed from the blow.

"I think you're ok, _mei mei_. Can you stand?"

"Doc, I'm thinking you should take the girl and get out of there."

"Mal, Vera is the very best --"

"I missed him, Jayne."

"What?"

As Simon carried River back into the hallway, Jayne's and Mal's eyes darted across the hold looking for their attacker. Mal walked down to join Jayne and returned Vera to him. He switched to his trusty pistol and never took his eyes off his surroundings. Mal had aimed for the attacker's leg, but the stranger was _gorram_ fast. He just leapt backwards and crashed into a pile of boxes.

He wasn't wounded though. Mal saw the bullet hole in the ground where the stranger had been standing. Mal hoped that the attacker was still within the pile of boxes, but after seeing him dodge a bullet, he wasn't even sure what he was dealing with. Mal whispered to Jayne.

"He should be lying in the boxes, all quiet like. He's not hit, understand? Bastard's fast, too."

"What's the plan?"

"I'd like to avoid shooting those boxes. We didn't filch them from the Baron just to riddle the catch with holes, did we?"

"Gots myself a scar the size of Whitefall on my back from that job."

"Right, so let's just --"

Mal was stabbed in his side and thrown to the ground. Gunfire rang through the hold. Mal reached down to his side and pulled out what looked like a sharpened, metal nail. He pressed his right hand down on the wound and his other hand went for his gun. He rolled over and aimed for his enemy.

Nowhere to be seen. Two sets of hands helped him to his feet. Simon and Zoe. Jayne was holding Vera at his side, staring at the Baron's crates.

The pain dimmed his vision, but Mal knew the Doc would tend to him.

"Where is he…?"

"Back in the boxes, Mal."

"Gorramit, can we leave our salary alone, please!"

"I hit him, sir. Twice. In the chest." Zoe said gently.

"And ol' Vera here got him once in the gut."

"All that gunfire and you hit him three times?"

"It's not that simple." Simon worked quickly to dress the wound. He hated doing this under gunfire, but that seemed to be the norm for practice as of late. He cursed lightly under his breath as he tried to stop the bleeding, but the nail had gone in deep.

"Why is it not that simple…?" Mal grunted.

"We're not sure, sir."

"I'll tell ya why. He ain't natural."

"I can see that Jayne. We're doing all this yammering, but is he dead?"

"Can't see how he'd live. Three hits to the vitals?"

"He's unarmed, sir."

"Tell that to my kidney."

"Your kidney is fine. I just need to stitch this up."

"Lemme deal with the stowaway, first, Doc."

"Uh, sir…?"

The crates began to shift as the stranger stood up, his eyes fully red. He had three bullet holes in his body, but they did not bleed. His simple clothing was riddled with scorch marks, places where bullets, shots that Mal was sure were on target, had grazed passed him. His tight fitting black sweater had a long gash along his side, a fresh wound not made by any bullet. The three holes in the sweater revealed broken skin, but beneath the skin was only a shiny metallic grey, not the fleshy, red and pink one might expect.

"What in the cold hell…?!"

"I hate to cut the fun short, but I need to bring the girl home. We can do this peacefully…"

He stretched his left hand out and turned his fingers toward Jayne. He flicked his wrist to the side and the distinct sound of a gun cocking echoed.

"…or I can kill _each_ and _every_ one of you."

"I'll take my chances with the second one, if you don't mind." Jayne aimed Vera at the attacker. The red eyes became cold and stone again as the stranger gave another forced smile.

His fingertips exploded. Six shots in rapid succession.

He flicked his wrist again. Six shots.

His bullets ricocheted against the walls of Serenity. Simon threw himself to the ground as Zoe placed herself in front of him. She and Mal drew their pistols and fired at their attacker whose relentless fire tore the packages Jayne dove behind to shreds.

Every so often, the stranger would jerk with inhuman speed, dodging some bullet aimed at his head or chest. The bullets that did strike him tore the sweater and his skin, but were cast aside by the metal beneath the skin.

He flicked his wrist to the side.

Zoe seized the opportunity. In the second that he paused to reload, she aimed and fired her pistol at his fingers.

His hand crackled with electricity and the muzzles of his fingertips lit aflame. The stranger hissed in his metallic rasp. His eyes flashed red again and he focused his attentions on Zoe. As he raised his right hand towards the warrior woman, tiny wires broke out of his left arm and, seemingly with a mind of their own, poked and prodded at the wounded left hand.

"How many times do you think that trick'll work?" Mal gasped through the pain.

The stranger smiled again in his misshapen smile. The skin of his right hand broke, snapped loudly enough to make Zoe flinch in disgust, revealing a robotic, skeletal hand rearrange itself into a single, large muzzle.

Loud creaking erupted from behind the stranger.

Zoe and Jayne looked towards Mal, who paused only a moment to consider what was happening. He nodded slightly, and both Zoe and Jayne fled from the hold. Mal grabbed hold of the doorway leading out of the hold.

The stranger's eyes widened as the airlock and the cargo hold door opened slowly opened behind him. Precious air fiercely rushed out of the hold. The cargo and loose debris began to slide towards the opening doors.

The stranger, too, lost his footing. He clenched his fist and three sharpened blades shot out of his knuckles. He raised his fist into the air and drove it into the floor of Serenity. As the rushing air picked up speed, he fell to the floor, holding on only with the blades of his fist. He looked up at Mal with fiery red eyes and aimed his weapon. Mal brought his pistol down.

"Get the hell off my ship."

He fired. The stranger's dark red eye exploded in a hail of sparks and crackling energy. Mal stepped into the hallway and shut the door as the rest of the air emptied out of Serenity's hold. He watched through the window as the stranger's body was flung helplessly around by the rushing air. After a moment, the blades of his fist retracted and the stranger was sucked out of the hold and into the darkness of space.

A/N: This was originally intended to be a longer story. The robotic assailant was meant to make further, more violent attempts at capturing River, who is integral to his plan to avoid becoming obsolete, as all technology eventually does. Unfortunately, this was written a long time ago and I'm far removed from the source material. I may continue it, but, for now, it's a one-shot.


End file.
